


Hope and Glory

by everwitch



Series: please, please have me [1]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex is very bad at shutting up, Bildfold, Blowjobs, Bondage, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Glory Hole, Hookup matchmaking, I PROMISE IT MAKES SENSE, Just very very nsfw, M/M, NSFW, Not sex club as in sex work though, Porn with a tiny side dish of plot, Sex Club, Strangers to Lovers, mild D/s if you squint, yes plural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29717316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everwitch/pseuds/everwitch
Summary: Any moment now, that door will open again and another man will enter, another stranger will bare himself and quietly slot himself into the hole in the wooden panel. And Henry will swallow him down, willingly, greedily. He will use his mouth and his tongue and both of his hands, and he will lose himself in every little sound, every low groan and trembling whimper, every sharp intake of breath. He will bring the stranger to the brink and then over it, will smile faintly as feels the man pulsing in between his hands, will brush a chaste kiss against the tip before he lets go.Henry lives out an impossible fantasy. Along the way, he forms a connection with an enigmatic lover.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor/Original Male Character(s)
Series: please, please have me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190990
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	Hope and Glory

Henry pulls his mouth off with a wet, indecent _pop,_ letting his jaw relax. He feels… good. He feels grounded, present in this moment. There's a clarity in his mind as he pumps the cock before him thrice more, _one, two, three,_ keeping up a steady rhythm, and when it pulses in his hands as the condom fills up, Henry leans his head back and lets his eyes flutter closed. He feels magnificently, unspeakably liberated. He feels _alive._

The cock in his hands twitches a couple of times. The man's breathing is still fast and heavy. He grunts as he pulls back, and Henry opens his eyes to see the tip of the cock slide back out through the hole in the wooden panel before him. He lets his mind drift as he absently takes in the sound of a zipper being pulled up and footsteps walking away. A door opens and closes.

There's a damp towel and a bottle of water next to where Henry is kneeling. Henry reaches for the towel first, wipes his hands clean of another layer of sweat and saliva. He has a sip of water next, then tilts his head sideways to stretch his neck. Any moment now, that door will open again and another man will enter, another stranger will bare himself and quietly slot himself into the hole in the wooden panel. And Henry will swallow him down, willingly, greedily. He will use his mouth and his tongue and both of his hands, and he will lose himself in every little sound, every low groan and trembling whimper, every sharp intake of breath. He will bring the stranger to the brink and then over it, will smile faintly as feels the man pulsing in between his hands, will brush a chaste kiss against the tip before he lets go.

It's all exactly what Henry had wanted. It's everything he's fantasized about and more.

On the other side of the wooden panel, the door opens. Henry wets his lips.

  
  
  


It's a high-end sex club, members only. It's obscure, and exclusive, and actually quite sophisticated for what is essentially an elevated hookup matchmaking service. It is also the very definition of discreet, and that's exactly what first compels Henry to dial the number.

Even when he gets the paperwork in the mail, he's still not sure if he will go through with it. He can definitely afford to—the outrageous membership fees listed on the form are actually weirdly comforting. Anyone seeking sexual partners through a service in this price range will have the same predicament as Henry: they'll be someone in a situation where discretion is a must, and be willing to do whatever it takes to ensure it.

The forms are… not as bad as Henry had feared. There's an assortment of check boxes for physical preferences in partners and another for preferred sexual activities, both of which Henry figures he should be able to fill out fairly easily. It's been a while since his college years of sexual exploration, but he still very much knows himself, can put into words quite succinctly what he likes and what he fucking _loves._ Which is why it is the next page that really gets Henry's attention: _We strive to provide all of our members with matches that lead to mutually satisfying sexual experiences. Please list any specific scenarios that you are interested in having accommodated. Describe in detail and keep in mind: no fantasy is too unconventional._

  
  
  


It's… a fantastic cock. And there's been a great assortment of those tonight, but this one makes Henry actually pause for a second. It's thick and just slightly curved and already leaking inside the condom, and Henry lets his eyes linger on the dark, neatly trimmed hair that surrounds the base. For the first time tonight, he finds himself trying to imagine the remainder of this man's body.

He's just about to get to it when the man huffs out a breath. Henry stills. There's something about that sharp, sudden exhale that sounds measured, deliberate. It sounds like there's an intention behind it. It sounds _impatient._ Unexpectedly, it sends a thrill down Henry's spine.

Slowly, Henry leans forward. He hovers close by, mere centimetres away, and carefully lets his own breath ghost along the length of the cock. It's when he gets to the base that he finally provokes the reaction he wants: the man's cock twitches, and a low, clearly involuntary groan escapes from his throat.

Henry leans back again, quietly taking note of his partner's already quickening breaths. Slowly, his lips curl into a sly grin.

  
  
  


Relationships are complicated. Relationships take time, and work, and fucking trust, and even when you think you truly know someone there's still a chance they could screw you over. They'll sell your story to the tabloids and cash in their fifteen minutes of fame. Or, even worse: they'll come straight to you and ask how much you'll pay to keep it quiet.

But sex? Sex is simple. Sex is straightforward. Sex is _fun._ It's the before-and-after that Henry can't seem to crack the formula for.

Maybe that's precisely why Henry’s biweekly ritual of living out his most outlandish sexual fantasies in a carefully controlled, blissfully anonymous arrangement has become his most consistent routine.

"We'll be able to accommodate your latest request next Friday." Miss Nora Holleran's voice on the phone sounds as businesslike as always. "It was actually a very simple process to find good matches among our members for this one. We had… many interested candidates."

Henry smiles to himself. He hasn't been sure of how many men would be interested in being on the receiving end of his elaborate glory hole scenario, but apparently he's had nothing to worry about. "Okay. Thanks for letting me know."

"I just need to confirm a couple of details," Miss Holleran continues efficiently. "You don't want to see any of your partners as they enter and exit the room, is that accurate?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And you want them to remain quiet." Miss Holleran makes a brief pause. "Quiet as in not speaking? Or quiet as in making no noises whatsoever, holding back any audible reactions?"

"Quiet as in not speaking," Henry tells her firmly. He takes a second to consider before he elaborates. "Other sounds are… fine. In fact, they're encouraged, although I'd prefer it if my partners weren't specifically aware of that. But more importantly, I don't want them to use their words to ask for anything. I want to be the one in control. Of everything."

"Of course." Henry can hear Miss Holleran's fingers flying over her keyboard. He wonders, sometimes, how many pages of notes she has on his every sexual desire. It’s a very good thing that his monthly membership fees amount to a much heftier sum than any publication would reasonably pay for Henry’s dirty laundry. "As always, we'll make sure your partners are aware of and comfortable with every aspect of your scenario. We look forward to welcoming you next week."

  
  
  


Henry dips his tongue out, slowly licking his way up the shaft and all the way to the head. He lingers there, swirling his tongue around the tip before pulling back slightly, squeezing the base with both hands. The low groan that earns him is nothing short of exquisite.

He's been at it for a good while, now. He's going slower than he has with any of the others, savouring every moan, every breathless whimper. Twice, he's taken the cock all the way to the back of his throat, his cheeks hollowing as he swallows methodically around the head. Both times, he's pulled back almost immediately, giving this man no more than a taste of all that he _could_ do, if he felt so inclined, a brief glimpse of everything that Henry isn't letting him have.

His partner has been panting heavily for some time. The man's hips jerk forward every so often, but that's not getting him anywhere. Henry makes sure to slow down pointedly each time, his hands stilling completely as he mouths teasing, featherlight kisses at the tip of the man's cock. He thinks that he's making his point rather well: the man is clearly fighting harder and harder to keep his hips as still as possible. He keeps slipping up, though. Henry is quite meticulous about making sure that he times the consequent loss of contact perfectly each time. It’s started to turn into something of a challenge, one that very much goes both ways. It’s _fun._

It is after another such slip-up that it happens. This time, Henry has let go of the man's cock entirely and is taking a quick sip of water when—

"Jesus _fuck,"_ his partner swears under his breath. Henry has barely processed that when the man quickly continues. "Shit, sorry, you don't… You wanted quiet. I'll shut up. Sorry."

He does, in fact, shut up after that. Henry carefully sets down his water bottle. His mind spins. The man’s voice had been broken, trembling. Utterly wrecked. And, yes, Henry has asked for quiet, has paid an outrageous amount of money to be matched up with sexual partners who are equally intrigued by that specific premise. Still…

“Sorry,” the man repeats quietly. God. He’s desperate, isn’t he? It’s delightful. Henry watches in fascination as the cock that he’s still not touching leaks a little more into the condom. “I… D'you want me to go?”

Henry wants anything but that.

He could deliver his answer by swallowing the man down to the hilt, finally giving him everything and more. It’s what he had in mind, only moments ago. Henry’s had his fun, has toyed with this man for much longer than he first intended to. Still, the idea doesn’t sit right with him now. There was a hint of uncertainty in the man’s tone when he spoke, a glimpse of vulnerability. He knows that he’s messed up Henry’s elaborate fantasy. He doesn’t know how surprisingly pleased Henry feels about that, and that’s a problem. Henry needs him to know.

“No. Stay.” Henry doesn’t consciously make his voice that firm, that authoritative. “And this time, don’t hold back.”

“Fucking hell,” the man mutters. He sounds awestruck. “You want… you want me to be loud?”

“I like your voice,” Henry tells him sincerely. “It’s hot.”

“I like your mouth,” the man is quick to return. He’s awfully cheeky, isn’t he? Henry’s mind conjures up a vivid image of eyes glinting with mirth and a playful smile. He thinks he can’t be far off the mark. “And your hands, oh my God, your fingers on my—”

“Be still,” Henry interrupts him. He wets his lips again. “Be completely still. Rubbing yourself on me will get you nowhere.”

“You think I don’t _fucking know that_ after… oh God, oh Christ, Jesus fucking—”

Henry closes his eyes as he takes the cock as deep as he can, relaxing his jaw and enjoying the feeling of it in his mouth, the fullness of it. He lets himself keep still for a bit. He’s going to get back to some sort of actual movement soon, or maybe in a little while. Right now, Henry is flying high as he listens to the stream of profanities that spills from his partner's lips, knowing that this man must be using every ounce of his self-control to keep himself immobilized, to be good for Henry. It’s not at all what Henry had expected this night to turn into. It’s so, _so_ much more.

  
  


“So there will be ten different men coming in through that door.” Miss Holleran is making a note on her clipboard. She rarely meets Henry’s eyes at this stage in the process, right before the event itself. Henry wonders if it’s out of some sort of consideration for him, or if it’s to make herself less uncomfortable. He strongly suspects that it’s the former. So far, Henry hasn’t once seen Miss Holleran unsettled by anything, and they’ve had more than a few interactions that most people would've found unbearably awkward. “You’ll be behind this wooden panel. They all know not to try to go around it. Everyone is well aware that your privacy is to be respected.”

“Thank you,” Henry tells her softly. “I appreciate that.”

“Any other questions?” Henry shakes his head. Miss Holleran does look at him, just briefly. She smiles politely. “Alright, then you’re all set. If I don’t see you after, have a lovely weekend.”

  
  
  


“Jesus, that was… Fuck. Fucking hell.”

For the first time tonight, Henry is trying to catch his breath. He’s hard. Fuck, he’s so _hard._ He brings a hand down to greedily rub his own cock through his underwear. He’d thought he’d be too focused, too wrapped up in every element of the pleasure of all his partners, he’d never even imagined that he’d—

“Thank you.” The man is making no effort to remove himself, his cock still limp in Henry’s shaking hand. His voice has turned drowsy. “Fuck, thank you. I haven’t… That’s the best it’s been in a while.”

Henry closes his eyes, slipping his hand below the waistband of his boxers. He needs to be quick. This man will leave, and another will step through that door, and when that happens Henry wants to have reeled himself back in, wants to feel grounded and present. He can’t stay in this unsettled, quickly spiraling state. He can’t.

“You’re a goddamn tease, though,” the man continues lazily. Does he ever shut up? “Not that you didn’t blow my mind completely, okay, I’ve got no complaints, but damn. You really…”

The man trails off. Henry is panting now, his hand moving up and down his length in quick, precise motions. The slick sounds are filling up the sudden silence, ringing loudly in Henry’s ears.

“Jesus,” the man mutters. His cock, still limp in Henry’s other hand, actually twitches. “You’re… Jesus Christ, that’s fucking sexy. That’s unimaginably hot. I wish you’d let me see you. No, I wish you’d let me _help._ I’d make you feel so good, I’d let you rub yourself on me wherever you wanted, baby, let you use me in any way you—”

It’s the _baby_ that does it. Henry groans, his hand speeding up, and with a quick _one, two, three_ he’s sent himself over the edge, spilling himself in one hand while still cradling the man’s cock in his other. It’s euphoric. But it’s also sickeningly intimate, frighteningly personal. A stranger is murmuring sweet nothings about running his fingers through Henry’s hair and letting Henry fuck him next time while Henry struggles to catch his breath. An infinitely sexy, alarmingly intriguing man is calling him sweetheart, and motherfucker, and baby.

It’s too much. But more than that, it’s not nearly enough.

“You should go,” Henry rasps out.

The man quiets. Henry is starting to realize what a phenomenally rare occurrence that is.

“Of course.” The man’s voice is soft. “You have… There are others, right? They wouldn’t tell me how many. I’ll leave you to it.”

He makes no motion to actually leave.

“There’s three more,” Henry tells him. He’s not sure _why_ he tells him. “Busy night.”

“Good night?”

“Yes. Very.” Henry let’s the man’s cock slide out of his grip, finally. Then he gets an impulse. Before he can change his mind, he leans forwards and brushes his lips right against the tip, one last time. “You were exquisite. Thank you.”

“Is that a compliment for my uncontrolled rambling, or my dick?” the man asks. He sounds like he actually wants to know. He’s also still not stepping back. “It’s much appreciated, regardless, but—”

“You should go,” Henry repeats. He’s teasing, this time. “Like I said, busy night.”

The man laughs breathlessly. And finally, he’s backing away.

“Alright, then. Enjoy yourself. And thanks again—I’ll remember this.”

  
  
  


Henry steps out of the room, freshly showered and dressed in a soft linen shirt and loose pants. He feels… content. He’s sore, and tired, and there’s an ache in his jaw that he’s going to be feeling for some time, but it’s the good kind of ache, one that will serve as a distant reminder of every euphoric moment that he lived through tonight.

Miss Holleran is still at the front desk when he passes. He nods curtly towards her, knowing that she’s not the type for small talk. Sometimes, Henry wonders what their interactions might have looked like if they’d met under different circumstances. There’s something about Miss Holleran’s frank efficiency that Henry has always appreciated. He’d like to think that they could’ve been friends.

“Do you have a minute?” Miss Holleran asks.

Henry pauses. He turns to look at her. This is… new. Miss Holleran’s expression seems vaguely tense.

“This is highly irregular, but...” Miss Holleran purses her lips. Ah. Whatever she’s about to tell Henry, she doesn’t exactly approve of herself. “One of your partners tonight left you a message. You’re of course not obligated to read it, I know you’re very particular about not having any further contact with—”

“Is he the seventh person?” Henry quickly interrupts her. “Guy number seven, tonight?”

Miss Holleran stares at him. She looks rather floored. “Er. Yes, actually. How did… I mean. As I was saying, he left you a message, but you’re in no way required to-”

“I’d like to read it.” Henry steps up to the counter. His heartbeat is already quickening. “Please.”

“It’s your choice, of course,” Miss Holleran says primly. She pulls a file out from behind the counter and retrieves a sealed envelope from within it. “I obviously haven’t read it, but I will say that I advised him against leaving any personal contact details as I couldn’t imagine you’d want to endanger your privacy by reaching out directly. If you wish to answer him in any way, you’re welcome to get back to us. We’ll handle it with discretion.”

“Right.” Henry is barely listening to her as he slides the small envelope safely into his pocket “Thank you.”

  
  
  


_Tonight was out of this world. You think I’m exquisite? You’re a goddamn revelation. You are everything I never thought I'd ever find._

_I want you._

_The charming but annoyingly stubborn Nora Holleran says you don’t do repeats, and you don’t get personal. I don’t want to push your boundaries. If you want things to stay strictly anonymous, we could find solutions to keep it that way. I’m into blindfolds. I’m also very into ropes, if that would help you feel more in control. I’m sure I could make it so good for you, you’d find it was worth getting just a little bit personal._

_Please, please have me. Please._

_A_

  
  
  


Henry only lasts one week before he gives in and makes the call. Miss Holleran, efficient as always, gets back to him after less than ten minutes with three different suggestions for dates and times. Henry decides he’s waited long enough—he chooses the very next night.

When he walks into the room and takes in the nude, blindfolded, very much gorgeous man waiting for him, he knows that he’s made the right decision. When the man smiles into a quickly deepening kiss, his arms wrapping greedily around Henry, his fingers exploring every bit of bare skin he can reach, Henry knows that his resolve to keep this man at arm’s length isn’t going to last for long.

It still takes three more encounters before the blindfold comes off, and seven more before Henry quietly divulges his own name in between kisses, giving himself over fully, consequences be damned.

Months later, when he wakes up next to a beautiful man with soft, curly hair and chin dimples, his former idea of a relationship being nothing more than a constant, draining struggle, a liability to be avoided at all costs, seems so distant. Henry wraps his arms around his lover, and closes his eyes. He doesn’t wake up again until a tender kiss is pressed to his temple.

They make out lazily until Henry pulls back to retrieve the rope and the blindfold from the box under their bed. Because while the need for cautious precautions has long since passed, it doesn't mean that they don't enjoy revisiting the origins of their intimacy every so often.

Minutes later, Alex experimentally tugs on the ropes, finding himself at Henry's mercy, exactly where Henry wants him. He smiles lazily in the direction where he apparently thinks Henry is. "What'll it be, baby? Are you gonna finger me? Fuck me? Make me fall apart?"

"One of those," Henry confesses breathlessly. "Don't hold yourself back, love. I want to hear you."

Slowly, he sinks to his knees.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this thought and it _just wouldn't leave me alone,_ so here we are? this was really fun though!
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://everwitch-magiks.tumblr.com/), feel free to come say hi!


End file.
